Rigception
by TheBooksofEli
Summary: Rigby is a thief trained in the world of corporate psychic espionage, his weapon - the power to enter into other people's dreams and steal critical ideas. After losing his love and family, he's forced to venture on one final mission (with the aid of his accomplices) for redemption. Meanwhile, he and his allies face an unprecedented foe who meddles with their plans.


**Chapter 1 - Palace Heist**

Rigby woke up from a temporary state of slumber, his face planted the cold, salty sand on the shore of Venice Beach, waves still crashing upon it like the sounds of revved cars on a highway. Up ahead, he glanced to see a mirage of his 2 children from reality, frolicking amongst their sand castle, until he heard one of them screech childishly, followed by the footsteps of an armed soldier ahead — speaking to the other on the terrace in their native tongue. The soldiers were puzzled on the finding of this waterlogged raccoon. Before turning him in, the soldier on the shore checked to see if he would respond to the barrel's tapping on his back, but instead noticed a concealed handgun underneath his coat, which was without hesitation lifted up by the barrel of his AK-47, he called out to the other soldier on the porch of a mansion.

Inside, the two soldiers rallied in the dining hall with an elderly Benson, who was already seated, discussing the arrival of this delirious being. He called for the soldiers to let him in, seeing he only had a handgun and a brass top, and didn't pose much of a threat. As the soldiers dragged Rigby into his seat, he was given a ration to nibble on as the conversation began with a direct question.

"Are you here to kill me?"

Still, silence. Rigby stopped eating for a moment but refused to look up at his host. Then Benson started up again by examining the brass top in his hand.

"I remember this. I've seen one before, many, many years ago. You remind me of someone...someone I met in a half-remembered dream. He was possessed of some radical notions."

This was all to real to Rigby, and he finally looked up in recognition of who he meant.

* * *

"What is the most resilient parasite?" Rigby was conversing with Mordecai, his second-hand man and partner, to an intrigued client named Benson.

"Parasite? That's probably the biggest word you've ever used.

"Are we talking buisiness or trash here? Anyways, is it bacteria, a virus, an intestinal worm?"

They were all seated to nice meals and cans of soda. Mordecai set his fork down loudly as if Rigby said something wrong or embarrassing. "Uh...what Rigby meant was-"

"An idea." Rigby interrupted Mordecai. "Resilient, highly contagious.

"Well NOW I'm surprised. Three words now. You're on a roll."

"Shut it. Now, once an idea gets in your brain, it's almost impossible to get out, right? And when there's an idea that's fully formed and understood, now THAT'S what sticks." Rigby brought a thumb to his temple. "Right in there, somewhere." He almost sounded doubtful.

"For someone like you to steal?" Benson asked.

"Yeah. In the dream world, your conscious defenses are lowered, so, like anything you think, people can take - that's called extraction.

"Basically, we can give you mental bodyguards for even the best extractors."

"How would you know? You don't even have a high school diploma." Benson gave a skeptic chuckle.

"Cause I AM the best, man!" Rigby defensively threw back. "I can find out anything about anyone, and that goes for you too! So if you still want my help," Rigby got up and walked around with a can on cola in his hand. "You gotta give me the goods! I need to know you better than Audrey, better than Mr. Malleard, better than everybody." Rigby pointed to the suspicious safe in the wall. "This is a dream, and that safe's got all the things I need to know about you. So if you want what we're offering, you have to be completely open with me."

Benson wiped his mouth and hands clean.

"Let me think about it." Benson got up and out to the living room where people were casually dancing about.

"Ugh, DUDE, that went terrible!"

"You think he knows?"

"He knows alright." As Mordecai said this, the room lightly shook. "What's going on up there?" Mordecai rhetorically questioned.

* * *

Rigby was elevated to a tub filled with water behind him. He was strapped to a wooden armchair fast asleep with the dream simulator. In the other room, Benson was attached to the same simulator lying comfortably sideways on top of a bed. Don was checking out the window to see an oncoming riot approach their building with fires and explosions here and there. Everybody asleep, Rigby, Mordecai, and Benson, seemed conscious while asleep, and glancing at Rigby's watch, the time drew nearer ad nearer.

* * *

"Let's just drop this one. He totally knows! He's playing head games!" Mordecai said more serious.

"Just chill out! I'll get the info on this tool. Remember? It's all in the safe."

Mordecai looked around him and saw a familiar face. "Don't look now, bro, but, why's she here?" He motioned with his eyes.

Rigby wasn't afraid to single them both out by turning his head. "I'll take care of it." Rigby whispered with a groan.

Mordecai pointed at Rigby. "You BETTER. Get her off our tails so we can get this over with, dude. Look, I'm getting fro-yo, so, make it quick."

"Don't worry! Don't worry. I got this!" Rigby walked away with a dismissive hand out to Mordecai.


End file.
